


616 baker street.

by zawey (orphan_account)



Series: 616 baker street. [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Humor, Multi, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, POV Steve Rogers, Post-War, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/zawey
Summary: sherlock!bucky and watson!steve alternative universe.when Steve comes back from the war, he didn't knew that it would be so hard to readapt to a routine. but before he had to deal with the bags under his eyes, he had to find a place to live.





	616 baker street.

**Author's Note:**

> so, *pulls a chair* I wrote a Sherlock AU.  
> that turned out way too big. so it definitely doesn't ends here. it's just the first part of a long long long story that doesn't ends here.  
> anyways, HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVA!! CAN'T WAIT TO SEE IF YOU LIKE IT!!!

Steve woke up, breathing heavily and sweating. His hands were shaking, his eyes full of water searched for any sign of danger on the small hostel room. He could hear a loud _tic tac, tic tac, tic tac_ on his ears. It freaked him out, constantly. It wasn't the first time, and probably wouldn't be the last.

He breathed in and out repeatedly, until he calmed himself down. (At least that was what he told himself.) Steve turned the little lamp on his nightstand on. It was comforting, made him feel calm. But it wasn't enough. 

_ Old demons don't leave so quickly. _

Eventually he gave up and left the bed. Steve wondered around the room, made himself a sandwich, folded his clothes. He checked the clock on his phone: four in the morning. He sighed. It would be a hell of a day.

 

* * *

 

“It was the same dream.” He told his therapist, a few hours later. “I'm on the medical bay, I hear a bomb, the bomb explodes, and I wake up. So I got off my bed, made a sandwich and later I went to a walk, like you suggested.”

Sam wrote something down on his notepad, and Steve can't help but to read it. “Continuous recall of old memories”, it said. He couldn't help but to notice his patient doing it, and smirked.

“What about the drawings? You said you liked it, did you tried to do it again?”

“Uh, _yes_.” Wilson raised an eyebrow. “A little. Some doodles, on the corner of a napkin, yesterday.”

“You're a _terrible liar_ , never forget it.” He wrote something else down, but this time the blonde man didn't read. “Steve, you may have left the war zone, but there's _always_ something you bring with you from there. It's up to you to decide if it's going to take over your life or not.”

Steve took a deep breath. It couldn't be that hard, right? But no one lied and said it would be easy either. (Sometimes he wished someone did.)

 

* * *

 

Walking around the park, Rogers didn't knew if he missed it or if he wanted to home and get back to sleep. He even thought of sitting down and feed some birds, but he wasn't that much of an old man. He found a man selling hot-dogs and ended up buying one for himself. (It wasn't a good slice of the New York famous pizza, but it was something good.)

Steve sat on a bench and considered his options. Talking to Sharon again wasn't something that he wanted; she had her own problems to deal with, and he didn't wanted to be another one. He still needed to find a place to live; staying on a hostel for the rest of the month was definitely a no.

“Steve?” He was so lost on his thoughts that he didn't noticed someone behind him calling his name. “ _Steven_.” The person said, a little louder.

“What?”

He said, turning around. Behind him, there she was: his old friend and colleague, Natasha. She hasn't changed a bit since the last time they saw each other, a few days before he went to Iraq. The redhead had a coffee in one hand and a phone on the other. She probably was on her lunch break.

“Nat, hey!” He stood up, to greet her with a quick hug. Then, both sat down on the bench. “How long, how are you doing?”

“I'm fine, thanks. When did you came back?”

“Two weeks ago.” Before she said anything, he added. “But I don't have a phone for myself, and I forgot my social medias passwords, so…”

“What do you mean you forgot? It was always ‘ _040684_ ’, right? I remember hacking your Orkut and sending things to me on ' _Happy Farm_ '.” He couldn't help but rolled his eyes. Why does everyone keeps reminding him of his past mistakes?

“I changed for this exact reason. You and Clint were terrible friends.” Romanoff laughed, as if she agreed with what he said. 

“Talking about him, he just got married-- uh,” she looked at the phone, that was buzzing and in need of her attention, “I have to go back to the school. When can I see you again? We really need to catch-up.”

They stood up, and, as he had no direction whatsoever, he followed her (“ _You look like a sad Golden Retriever, sometimes_ ”, she made a comment). The school that Natasha taught ballet wasn't so far away from the park, so they talked the amount they could until they got there. 

“Where are you staying, by the way? Friends should know this kind of stuff.” Natasha said, before entering the building.

“I’m on a hostel, for a while. I'm searching for an apartment, but I don't know where to start looking yet.” Steve shrugged. His friend made a “oh” face, just before it got brightened up.

“I have a friend that is looking for a roommate! I can take you to meet him tomorrow!” She said, excited.

He said “yeah, sure”. But when they said “goodbye” to each other, Rogers started to reconsider the offer. All of her friends, from what he remembered, are either crazy or are up to some weird stuff. ( _Himself included_ , probably.)

 

* * *

 

On the following day, they met again outside a _morgue_. Steve had a bad feeling about that, but he wouldn't let it show. Natasha, on the other hand, was excited to introduce him to her other friend. Well, he wouldn't be the one to let her down.

The way to the laboratory upstairs where he was made quietly. At the door, he once again cogitated to turn around and leave. But, hell, he really needed an apartment. The redhead beside him opened the door.

“Good morning, James.” She said, with no ceremonies. Romanoff entered the room, being followed by the blonde.

Steve looked at the man behind the microscope. He had a dark hair, that fell over his face on small curls, cheekbones that could cut someone's hand and a beard to-be-made. When he looked up, his blue eyes (as blue as Steve's) brightened up.

He smirked and greeted the other woman in the room, “Morning, Nat.” He left the desk and went straight to them. “And you would be…” The blonde took a time to realize that he was taking to him. Blame on his sleepless nights, it would be.

“Rogers. Steve Rogers, nice to meet you.” He said, giving a little smile. He extended his hand, and the man shook it.

“James Barnes.”

He felt that James’s blue eyes were analysing him somehow. He felt a little uncomfortable about it, honestly; _what kind of person does that in the first place?_ (Apparently, he did.) After an embarrassing moment, the brunet smirked again, and went back to the desk.

“So, back from the war, aren't you?” He said, and Steve frowned. He looked at Natasha, that just looked back at him with a funny face; like she what was about to watch something very interesting. He muttered “did you told him?”, and she whispered back “nope”.

“Yes, but how do you know that?”

“Your posture and haircut gave it away.” James simply said. “And I know a lot of things.”

“Really? Like what?” 

He looked back at Rogers. _It was a challenge_ , wasn't it? Even if it wasn't, he took it.

“I know that you're an army doctor, that you have problems to sleep at night, that you have a really special cousin that you don't see in years, but don't want to call because you two fought before you left, that you met Nat on high school and thinks she's weird (don't worry, everybody thinks that), and that you're here for the apartment I'm interested to share with someone.”

“Uh. Yeah. Okay.”

Rogers was pretty much speechless. And James somehow knew it. He just smirked again, and Romanoff giggled. He picked up his coat and walked towards the exit door. Before he left, he said “ _616, Baker Street_ , see you tomorrow morning, Steve.”

**Author's Note:**

> do you see the cliffhanger? no? okay, there's a cliffhanger here. whoop whoop SEQUELS!!!  
> anyway again, really hope you liked it, I wrote with love for you <3  
> happy holidays, sugar!


End file.
